Revenge is Better Than Christmas
by betteroffred
Summary: Jetta would do anything for a spot of revenge... Literally. Story is full of ff slash, so if that isn't your thing, you've been warned. I've been wanting to write this pairing for like a year now and, well, yeah. Smut. It was fun to write if nothing else!


This was wrong. Just being here was wrong.

"You love her?" She asked me, breath hot on my ear. It sounded like an accusation.

"Yes," Whatever she was doing with her hand, it was intoxicating. Every cell in my body was on fire from her touch. She could have asked me anything at all right then and I'd likely answer the same way. "Yes! Oh god, yes!"

She laughed, haughty and low; bit my neck, hard. Mouth clenched around my throat. I felt her tongue trace long languorous strokes that contrasted beautifully with the sharp pain caused by her teeth. Made me shudder and I squeezed her tighter.

"Tell me why," She pulled her bite away long enough to speak. Her mouth found my own and I was starved for her. Felt like I was burning up in her. She's just as good with her mouth as she is with her hands but she pulled away from me suddenly and I was left longing. "Tell me," She commanded in a sweet, soft voice.

And then she was on me again. Her hand moved fast, thrusting hard, and I shuddered. What she was doing made me groan, and I nuzzled my mouth into the crook of her neck for a moment. I was so close I could taste it. She had me right on the edge of what was sure to be a stunning orgasm and was drawing it out, keeping it from me on purpose. Took me a moment to find my voice and form a coherent sentence. "She's better at this than you are," I growled at her in little gasps.

She rolled me over, shoving me into her silk-cased pillows, hovered inches above me. All her long platinum hair fell around me, ripples of shimmering light in her dimly lit bedroom. She smiled down at me, but it was anything but a friendly expression. More vicious, wholey amused. Hungry; she was a predator and I her prey. "Liar,"

She touched me in a way that made my toes curl and my back arch. One of her strong arms cradled me under the small of my back, pulled me up into her. "Oh... god!"

"Is she still better?" She asked, dipping her mouth to my chest. Her tongue drew stripes between my breasts. "Tell me how the hell Pizazz could possibly be better at this than me?"

I closed my eyes and the world went green. "Pizazz is--" I saw her face in my mind's eye, those fiery green eyes that drove me insane. The night before I'd gone out with Pizazz, picked up a few lucky boys at a bar. We'd taken them back to her place and had a nice little party. I let her have the dishy blond because they're her favorite and took the brunette for myself. The whole time I couldn't take my eyes off of them. Her, really. Watching her with him, wishing it was me that she'd given herself to... I'd been so caught up in it that I hadn't noticed her eyes on me until right then. She'd been watching me watch her, and she smiled, enjoying every minute of it. Pizazz, the consummate performer, and me her audience. She loved to perform, whether she had an audience of two or two thousand. Suddenly it's she that I was with, her beautiful pink mouth pressed to mine, her hand working inside me, its her, her, her! My eyes watered, "God... Pizazz!"

It was more than I could take and every muscle in my body contracted. I shuddered against her as orgasm crashed over me like a tsunami. I was left trying to catch my breath, felt every bit like I'd been drowning and had just got my first glorious breath after all too long. She held me tight, taking me further in to it until my skin felt like ice and I was prickly with goose-flesh all over. We stayed pressed tightly together for a few long, intense moments. My cheeks were flushed, my heart was racing. I felt light headed and drunk off her, and I was glad when she laid down next to me. Turned on my side and rested my head on her shoulder for a moment. My heart was pounding hard enough to hear it.

"That was mean," I told her. It was, really. Making me call Pizazz's name like that, it was a cruel thing to do.

She laughed softly, knowing exactly what I was talking about. "I thought it was hot." She kissed me quickly.

I glanced up at the blond, smiled a little. It was mean of her, but only because she'd been right. I had been lying. I had no way of knowing if Pizazz was better than her or not because I'd never done this with Pizazz. Done a lot of other things with her, but never been with her like this, just the two of us. I wanted to, oh god how I'd wanted to! I'd imagined it, lived it over and over in my mind. With the way that Riot had captured her attention, my happy fantasy was likely as close as I'd ever get to having Pizazz to myself. It killed me to think about her with him. It hurt more than I'd ever admit that she wanted him more than me.

More or less recovered, I got up, tried to find all my clothes. This wasn't the first time I'd been in Rapture's pent house bedroom, but the strangeness of it had yet to wear off. Her room was massive, cluttered with crystal clusters and other weird occult looking objects. Incense smoke hung heavy in the air and I thought it was quite a lot like being on the set of some horrible movie about witch craft or voodoo. I wondered how much of her collection was real and how much consisted of stage props.

Rapture laid there and watched me gather my things, pretty smile on her cruel mouth. She was beautiful, in her own way. No, I wasn't being fair. She IS beautiful. Lovely blue eyes, full lips, long lean body, a mind as sharp as her tongue. Her platinum hair was long and wavy and pretty when it was down and loose, like it was now. I half wanted to climb back into bed and lay there with her, stay in her arms until the sun came up. But this is just sex and we don't do that. Can't. Shouldn't even be doing this, meeting up the way we do. She's a Stinger and I despise her for what she put Pizazz through; making her sick drinking some phony 'gypsy love potion' once upon a time. Humiliating her the way she had, it was a foolish bit of nonsense. If it had been anyone but Pizazz or one of the other Misfits I'd have cared less, probably cheered her on. But no, it would have to be the girl that I want above all, and I can't forgive her for it.

"Minx and Riot won't be back until Sunday," She told me.

"So?" I asked, unraveling my silk stockings.

"So stay," She said. Friendly little seductress's tone of voice. It was the same voice she used to con people out of a bit of dosh. I knew this and still I was half tempted.

"I have to run. Got an early morning ahead of me," I lied, slipping on my shirt. The more articles of clothing I had on the more likely I was to walk out of there.

"All the more reason to stay," She told me. "You can get some sleep and then leave early."

I turned and looked at her, a little amused. I shook my head 'no'. "You want someone to stay the night, go find yourself a nice little girlfriend. Go try and win Minx over. I'm sure if you beg Riot enough he'll tell her to--"

"And you think I'm mean," She huffed, sounding a little put off by the comment.

"You are. Its part of your charm." I slipped my skirt on, self-satisfied little smirk on my lips. I knew she wanted Minx terribly, but Minx was as straight as any girl could possibly be and wouldn't have any of it. It was a low blow on my part and I hoped it stung. Served her right for making me think about Pizazz earlier.

She laughed. "Coming from a cold hearted bitch like you, that's almost a compliment."

"Almost," I smiled at her, a little bit coy, almost preening.

She crawled out of bed and walked over to me, slipped her arms around my shoulders and pressed her naked body to mine. "I wish you'd stay just this once," She purred in my ear, kissing my face gently.

"I wish I could, love," I said, actually meaning it. "But I have things to do." I sneered at her. Things more important than her, the look implied loud and clear.

"Can't we drop the ruthless cut-throat routine for one night? Just because our bands our on opposite sides doesn't mean we have to be. I really wanna be on your side, Jetta," She purred, lips grazing the shell of my ear. The sentence was coldly calculated despite the seductive little tone in her voice. "Come on... stay. It'll be fun. I promise," She ran one of her hands between my thighs, kissed my neck. I had to hand it to her, she played emotions like chords on her guitar; masterfully. Normally, it probably worked. If I hadn't been determined to leave, it would have worked on me. Different circumstances and I'd respect this quality in her.

"But we are on opposite sides," I kissed her. "And I hate you," I smirked. It was easily the most honest thing I'd ever said to her.

The Stinger raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Fuck you, Jetta."

I licked my lips. "Alright. I'm free tomorrow night. Nine work for you? Good," I pecked her on the lips, giggling sweetly. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Typical Sagittarius, so afraid of any kind of real connection..." She sighed pulled away from me. Stalking back over to the bed she burrowed under the covers alone. She found the remote control and flipped on her television. It looked a bit like she was sulking and I smiled at her in the flickering light.

"Nine it is, then," I ignored her, slipping on my jacket and shoes. Spun my car keys around my finger in a triumphant, merry little gesture. "See you tomorrow."

"Hmph," Rapture grunted, not turning to look at me as I left.

Odd that a little thing like not staying the night with her should get her all in a twist, I thought as I rode the elevator down to the parking garage. Unlike so much of our banter, I didn't get the impression that this was a con. It seemed like I'd had really upset her a little. Good, I thought. Perfect. Right on track.

Caught sight of myself reflected in the elevator's mirrored walls and smiled, feeling on top of things. The left side of my neck was red, quickly bruising, and bore the imprint of her bite. I touched it, admiring it in the mirror. It was going to hurt in the morning, I was sure of it. I'd be wearing scarves for a week. Still, the sight of her bite mark brought me some measure of naughty joy. Like it was a trophy. No, like a reminder. A warning.

I had to be careful. Rapture was no idiot. She played with people's minds as a way of life, all her bullshit gypsy heritage aside. The girl's a pro and damn good at what she does. But that's not what had me worried, oh no.

I was just honest enough with myself to know that, had circumstances been different, she was exactly the sort of girl I could fall for. Painfully bright, conniving, under-handed, devious, just the right amount of sadist in her to prove amusing... brilliant in bed. There was a reason she called herself Rapture, oh yes. Sheer ego on her part, I was sure, but she lived up to the title and then some. Had things been different I could fall for her and fall hard. But... I'm a Misfit and she's a Stinger and there's no two ways around that little fact.

And I wanted to make her suffer for what she'd done to Pizazz. No, for what her whole damned band had done, not only to Pizazz, but to all of us Misfits. Rapture was a means to that end, and I'd do best to remember that.


End file.
